


Love that Liberates

by msariadneoliver



Category: Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca - Levay/Kunze
Genre: Angst, Comfort Sex, F/F, Hair Brushing, Hurt/Comfort, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Reunion Sex, danny is Soft, mistress/servant, obligatory guest appearance from danny's tiny bed from the 2020 movie, slight praise kink on both their parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msariadneoliver/pseuds/msariadneoliver
Summary: On her first official night as the mistress of Manderley, Mrs. de Winter finds herself overwhelmed with everything, and seeks comfort in Mrs. Danvers, who she hasn't had a proper moment alone with in weeks
Relationships: Mrs. Danvers (Rebecca)/Narrator (Rebecca), Mrs. Danvers (Rebecca)/ich
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Love that Liberates

It was late at night when she returned to Manderley again. The car travelled through the iron gate, and along the long winding drive. After so long away in London, she was not prepared for how imposing the sight of Manderley would be to her. How grand, yet forlorn it was in the moonlit sky - how even her most vivid dreaming, it could never compare to actually being before it - and now it was hers. The thought twisted her insides into knots.

She was not surprised to find the senior staff still in attendance. A letter from Mrs. Danvers had warned her of as much. Their correspondence had been limited, formal, almost detached, but every bit of it such a welcome reprieve. There was Frank, of course, who nobly held the fort in her absence while she took on the countless solicitors, Frith, and Mrs. Danvers. Nothing could have prepared her for the swell of relief she felt upon laying eyes on her again. It took everything she had to not run to her, remembering her sense of decorum. Still, she offered Mrs. Danvers a timid smile, and was met in turn, with a stiff nod.

“Madam.”

There were the usual formalities with everyone, of course, but it was not long before the conversations turned to the expected responsibilities of the following day and weeks to come. Now that the legalities of everything had been taken care of, there was still so much to be arranged, so many obligations to fulfill. All of Manderley resting now on her shoulders. She could feel their collective gaze on her. What they must all be thinking as she was only able to nod dumbly, comprehending perhaps only half of what was said. She dared only a glance at Mrs. Danvers, unable to read her, unable to know anything. What if. . . after everything . . . was this all she was now to her . . .She wrung at her skirts, trying to swallow the heaviness that had formed in her throat, in her stomach, struck with the sensation that she was drowning. 

“Perhaps we should continue this in the morning,” Said Frank, at last. “You’ve had quite a taxing time, after all. This can wait.” 

“Yes . . . that might be best. . .”

“Shall I send for Clarice, Mrs. de Winter?” from Frith

“That won’t be necessary,” And she started when Mrs. Danvers spoke. “I will assist Mrs. de Winter tonight - if she desires it, of course?” Her face was still so cold, but she caught the glimmer of something else in her eyes, or perhaps it was only a hope.

“Yes.” She said, at once. “That would be much appreciated, Mrs. Danvers.” 

“Very well. Madam?” And she motioned for the halls. 

They were barely clear of the doors, alone now in the vast winding hallway, when she reached back for Mrs. Danvers, clutching at the slippery black material of her sleeve. Her whole body was trembling now, the effort to hold herself together so strained. She turned to properly face her, to take in those regal features that she had been away from for what seemed an eternity. 

“Danny . . .?” The name seemed to hang in the air, filled with so much uncertainty, as her voice faltered, and hot tears prickling, burning.

“Darling,” It was all Danny had to say and the tremor as she said it caused the dam to collapse as she broke down. She pressed a hand to her mouth, to try and muffle the sound, but it did precious little good. 

“Darling,” Danny said again, quieter, followed by her given name, still such an alien sound to hear from Danny’s lips. She leaned into Danny’s touch and was gathered in her arms in an instant. She was helpless, wracked with vicious, gulping sobs for several moments, as Danny held her tight, fingers stroking through her hair, pressing her lips to her temple, with gentle, repeated reassurances, “I’m here, I’m here.” She clung onto Danny as though she were her lifeline, realizing only after that it might have hurt, burying her face into soft fabric, willing everything but this to fall away. 

“I’m sorry,” She muttered, finally, with a heavy, shaking breath. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Danny intoned, softly. She dared to look up, only to see Danny’s eyes shine, quelling a sadness that she had not seen since the trial, and more tears threatened to spill over. 

Danny cradled her face in her hands, spindly thumbs caressing away the dampness of her cheeks as best as she was able.

“It’s late,” Danny murmured, “You should try and get some rest,” _Oh, god._ Panic filled her insides, and she felt sick. The thought of leaving this, leaving her, now after so little time. To return to that mausoleum, where everything seemed like it would swallow her alive. She gripped Danny’s arms, even as they traced down her frame.

“No, I can’t . . . how can I go -”

“ _Please,_ my darling” There was a desperate tinge in Danny’s voice now, “Come to bed.” and she realized what was being asked.

She nodded, wordlessly, and allowed for Danny to take hold of her hand and guide her down the halls, as they reached the servants quarters and ascended up that small, cramped staircase. 

The familiar comfort of Danny’s bedroom enveloped her at once. The creaking of the floorboards, the warm glow of the lamplight, that tiny, tiny bed that felt more like home than any of Manderley’s grandiosity. Still, she stood frozen, unsure. Her eyes cast downward, feeling suddenly how thick and intrusive the fabric of her clothes were, acutely aware now, of how feverish and swollen everything felt.

“I must look frightful,” She said then, ashamed. Danny offered a soft smile.

“Of course you don’t. And you mustn't worry about that now. But . . . if I may?” She offered her hand again and guided her towards the edge of the bed. Danny stepped back, almost as an afterthought, and removed the pins from her tightly bound hair, letting dark curls fall loose. A small, but welcome gesture. Aside from Rebecca, she was certain that Danny never let her hair fully down for anyone else. Even with that lone silver streak, it made Danny look so different, so much younger and less burdened by the world. It was removal of that layer that made Mrs. Danvers, and instead, in the sanctuary of this room, she could be Danny, _her_ Danny. 

With that, Danny began to remove her clothes, slowly, deliberately, folding each article and setting it aside with such reverence and care. She felt like porcelain, especially against Danny’s cool, deft touch. When she was left in nothing but her undergarments and her chemise. Danny ran a thumb across her knuckles, 

“I’ll be back in just a moment. Will you wait here for me?” Another nod. And she retreated into the washing room, returning with a hairbrush. Danny hovered over her, and asked, 

“May I?” And she said yes, even as that pang of guilt stabbed through her, how selfish, how - 

But she melted into Danny’s ministrations, closing her eyes, limbs feeling lighter. Each stroke was followed by a caress of her other hand, and the slight prickling of the bristles against her neck sent shivers through her. If she could, she would stay nestled in this safety, surrounded by Danny’s touch, forever, but that cold, hard reality set in again. 

“I’m so afraid that I can’t do this,” She whispered, and Danny stopped, mid-brush. “How can anyone just expect me to be the mistress of this house. To manage a staff, to fulfil this legacy that isn’t even mine . . .” The words came pouring out at once, so many unspoken thoughts becoming more realized as she said them, “All these people who depend on me now . . . doesn’t everyone realize that I’m nothing more than a silly schoolgirl? Who destroyed their old way of life? Who took their proper employer away from them? I don’t belong here, I’ve never belonged here . . .me, a lady . . .How could anyone want - how can I -” More hot tears began to spill down her cheeks again, but this time, Danny was quicker to pull her close.

“I am so sorry, my darling,” She said, and the anguish was clear in every word, “I can’t imagine how overwhelmed you must be. I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” Danny kissed her forehead then, “But please don’t think even for a moment that you don’t belong here, aren’t wanted here.” She could see Danny’s pale eyes had become wet with her own tears now, “We all need you here - want you here. And you weren’t the one who destroyed anything. Not ever.” Danny ran her fingers through her hair again, her gaze never faltering. “Please believe that, if only for my sake.” There was almost despair in the way Danny spoke now, and something else, something deeper, in the way she looked at her. With a quiver of her lip, she nodded.

“Yes,” Was all she could say. 

Danny released her hold of her, reluctantly, and began to fiddle with the clasp of her broach. Her hands still trembling, she reached for it.

“Can I do it?” She asked. Danny hesitated, but she appeared to understand at once. How she wanted to return at least a little of what Danny gave and gave, wanted to feel as though she were doing something useful and could Danny accept her help, _please._

“Alright, then,”

It was a stiff little thing, and she’d always loved the old beauty of it. She admired it as she held it in her hand.

“I don’t believe I ever asked you where you got this.” 

“It was my grandmother’s.” Danny told her, “She gave it to me before I officially went into service.” 

Danny didn’t speak much of her family, and it seemed as though there was a good reason for it, and while she could never bring herself to pry into what was so delicate, she realized there was still so much of Danny that was still unknown to her still so closed off. She set the broach on the nightstand, and began to work at the buttons of Danny’s dress. When she had nearly all of them undone, she slipped her hands underneath, mesmerized by how soft and warm and steady Danny’s skin was beneath her fingers. How desperately, painfully, she had missed this. What she would give to keep this moment preserved forever, frozen in time.

Soon, like her, Danny’s slip and underthings were all that remained, silken black in contrast to hers of creamy white and she couldn’t help but gasp at Danny’s beauty, unable to take her eyes away. 

“I only wish there was more I could do . . .” She confessed.

“You’ve done more than enough today, pet.” Danny assured her, kissing her forehead. “You’re here with me. That’s all I need.” And Danny pulled her into her arms, settling them both back onto the bed and under the covers. She kissed along Danny’s jaw, ghosting over the corners of her mouth, wanting to etch her presence with every touch. How desperately she needed Danny to know that she loved her, loved her so much that her heart ached. It had been too long since she was able to do this, kiss her, touch her, love her. A part of her was still wracked with that anxiety, that perhaps someone - even if they may be gone forever - might walk through the door at any moment, and her nervous glances to the door were perhaps inevitable.

“Locked -” Danny said, an answer to her thoughts, “Only us.” She tilted her head, so that they were looking properly at one another, and Danny repeated her words from before, “I’m here.” Her hand found its way to her chest, feeling for the steadying beat of her heart. _Oh, my Danny_.

“I’m here too.” She said, before she leaned forward to capture Danny’s lips properly. They revelled in the sensations together, kissing long and deep, moving until they sat upright, her straddled in Danny’s lap. Danny ran her hands across her exposed thighs and she shivered and gasped, absently rocking her hips along Danny’s leg. 

“We - _oh_ \- Danny, we don’t have to - if you don’t want -” She breathed, between fervent kisses. Even as she felt herself coil with that arousal, even as she desired it so badly - but Danny kissed her harder, hungrier, burying her fingers in her hair and gripping at the back of her neck, rocking their bodies together all the more. It had been weeks, bordering on months, since they had made love, and she marveled at how effortlessly they could fall into each other like this, how the intoxication remained as unwavering, as insistent and insatiable as it had that first night, that first time in this very room. Only now, with the strengthened trust and love, the study they had made of each other after falling together in nearly countless ways. There was something else too, that absence of a certain breed of fear and the knowledge that they were safe together. 

She hadn’t ceased her grinding motions, and Danny’s fingers now traced closer to the inside of her thigh, towards slick, sensitive heat, and she moaned at the touch and stilled. 

“I want -” 

“You want?” Danny repeated, coyly, her eyes darkening. She began to tug at Danny’s chemise. 

“These. Off.” Was all she could manage, “I want to feel you. Please -” 

Danny helped her shed them both of their final garments, this time discarding them carelessly on the floor, until they were bare before each other. 

“So exquisite,” Danny murmured, before kissing a trail up her throat, her hands caressing her breasts, and she whimpered in appreciation, flushing with her praise. She made good on her word, savoring the silk and heat of Danny’s skin, fingers indulging, teasing, adoring. Danny’s arm circled around her, pulling her closer still, the fingers of the other now brushing against soaking curls. She gave a sharp intake of breath, as though in awe with that proof of just how badly she wanted her. 

“ _Oh . . .”_

“Danny, _please_ ,” She was reduced to frantic whines, overwhelmed by that aching need for more. 

She knew that so often when together like this, Danny adored to tease, loved to draw out her pleasure over and over, but the thought was too torturous to bear now, not after so long, and Danny seemed to realize this, bringing their lips together again, a silent promise of providing exactly what she wanted, what she needed.

She nearly cried out in relief at the sensation of two of Danny’s fingers slipping inside her, thumb stroking that sensitive nub before she could even think. Her hands scrambled for purchase, grasping at her waist, and she began to move with her thrusts, that little bed creaking with every one.

“That’s it, that’s my girl, my beautiful darling,” Danny whispered with every move of her hand, her voice so much like the deep, mysterious call of the sea. She moaned again, louder, burying herself in Danny’s neck, lavishing her with kisses and soft bites.

She was no longer able to form words or thoughts, only feel, only know this, lose herself in the passion that Danny offered, more and more and _oh, more_ , dancing closer to the edge. The room filled with the heat of their sex and her higher and higher sighs. Danny added a third finger into her core, plunging deeper and harder, never ceasing with her whispers and her praise. Words of how she was Danny’s and only Danny’s, how she was so good, so wonderful, how Danny adored her, worshipped her, loved her, that’s it let go oh, dannydanny _danny . . ._

When her climax overtook her, it swelled up slow, and then all at once, flooding every part of her. She began to tremble and quake, Danny’s name spilling from her mouth amid other wordless cries of deliverance as everything went hot and burst with white.

As the waves finally subsided, she clung to Danny tight, kissing her deep and slow with the satisfaction of her release and sheer need for her still.

“Beautiful,” Danny purred, tracing her fingers along the curve of her back. “My darling girl,” She slowly removed her hand, causing a small whimper, before languidly licking her fingers clean, erotic and loving all at once. As her breathing became less ragged, much more even, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, feeling much lighter, and she gave a sigh of relief.

“I love you,” She murmured, with all the sincerity that she had within her. Danny kissed the crown of her head in response. They let a contented silence overtake them, laying nestled in each other's arms, savoring in the now peaceful quiet. Her eyes were finally beginning to grow heavy, and she was partway between the world of consciousness and sleep.

“You are not alone in this, you know,” Danny finally said, a gentle vibration as she relaxed against her chest. “I’m here, and I will always be here.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“I do. I promise you. I would follow you to the ends of the earth if I had to. My angel. My lady.” And she kissed the pads of her fingers before she kissed her again, soft and sweet. “We will weather Manderley together, you and I.”

“Yes,” She agreed, and this time, she was certain that she meant it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short burst of fic that I wrote on the fly this week, and it's maybe the quickest I've written something in a while that I'm mostly proud of so I thought I'd share it. I may edit the beginning at a later date but for now I hope it'll due. As always the title is taken from a song from the musical although the influence of the Danny and Ich's are, once again a hodgepodge


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